Flat like a pancake...or getting there

These were taken on day 16, weight approx. 119lbs! Note, if you do get a tummy tuck, my weight went up for a while and is just now coming back down. I have not started paying attention to what I've been eating yet as I still just want comfort/easy food. That is going to change soon as more and more energy comes back and I can start exercising.

I'm flexing in this next one to show what little definition there is...

And even though my crazy eyes are showing in this next picture, I'll post it. This is me at the end of the day. I'm sore, usually a little crabby, and tired! I haven't looked into it, but I would not be surprised to find out that healing from surgery makes you physically exhausted and sleepy. If it's not true, let's not tell Chris.

Today is day 18. Physically I feel pretty good. Yes, I get sore towards the end of the day. I still take a percocet after the kids are in bed, but I feel like that is my little treat until they run out (I think I have five more). I think I feel good, but after one of those, I can actually roll from side to side, recline/sit up without thinking, and really just enjoy feeling completely normal. Today I helped Austin ride his two wheeler up and down the street for for.ev.er. I actually ran a little in the park playing with the kids, moved some furniture around the house, and I carried Austin (36lbs) longer than just up and down the stairs.  I feel sore in my back/thighs as I think I still use those more in lifting/carrying than I normally do, but overall things are pretty good. 

When I look at the scar/new belly button, I like what I see. I found a bathing suit bottom at Diva's sports that is plain black with a yoga pants-like top, meaning it can roll up or down. If I have it up the scar is hidden. I can pair those bottoms with a couple of tops and that will be great for swim season. I wish the scar could be lower, but then the skin couldn't have gotten as tight, so I'm not disappointed by any means. I also think my belly button looks a little small (he said it would...don't know if that is just me, or if that happens a lot) and it might be a little high, but again, not disappointed, just noticing things about this new body. My friend told me there is some info. out there about putting a marble in the belly button to make it bigger? I don't know, but I'm off to google that...

It was day 14 that I peeled off my compression garment (YES. I'm still wearing it. I would now love to take it off as I'm quite comfortable with it off, but I'm following Dr's orders as I'm still scared to death that I'll develop seroma and I am NOT going to do that!) and I LOVED my tummy tuck. There is no question this is the best decision I could have made in moving forward in a relationship with my body. This was confirmed about an hour ago when Chris walked into the bathroom when I was showering and said, "Hey pretty." He does this almost every day regardless where I am. I don't have a nickname from Chris, but if I had to say he calls me something, it's "pretty". Normally when he says this to me and I'm in the buff I will roll my eyes, make my belly into a puppet and say things like, "You talkin' to me?" But this time I just smiled and said "Hi" back. I don't know how to show that this was a HUGE step. It's like a switch is turned off in my brain that will reject his compliments, I am now accepting them. And that feels really, really nice. 

I should have listened.

Day 10 I went to the doc and had my last drain removed (YAY!). The only bandage I have left is where that drain was pulled out. I'll post pics soon...haven't gotten around to it yet because! Day 10 is also the day I moved home. (YAY! and YIKES!).

All of the advice I read online was to allow yourself two weeks. Stay away from work for two weeks. HA! Two weeks? What happens when your life is your work? That would be an incredibly long time to be away from the kids. I've left them for four nights before, that's the longest in a row. On day 9 I was home for a couple hours with Chris and the kids, it was awesome. Oliver saw me and RAN into my arms, wrapped his arms around my neck and couldn't stop saying "Mommy!" We played, I sat in the sun, some neighbors came over to chat and I ended up in their living rooms, it was wonderful. I helped with bedtime and left. It was easy. There was minimal screaming when I helped Oliver to bed and then none with Austin. My fabulous MIL came back down from WY to help for a couple of days (thank goodness! I would have really lost it if it wasn't for her!). I went back to my parents, had some good rest and slept in.

Monday, after the doc's appt. I headed home. Something had snapped in the kids when they woke that morning and I wasn't there. We had talked about it, but their understanding for me being away had run out. They glued themselves to my legs and would not let go. It was Austin's last day of pre-school and I left him screaming. I had a work event that evening and both of them stood with their faces smooshed against the glass screaming. They will not let my MIL help if I am around, and if she does anyway, they scream. Tues. has brought more of the same. Oliver wants to be picked up and carried (the nerve of a 22 month old), my back is sore, my belly hurts, my fuse is short and their energy is endless.

Life continues on. I felt like I could handle it, I've been feeling so GOOD. I was down to basically no pain, some discomfort when lying down, or rolling from side to side. Tonight I'll most likely be back to sleeping on the couch in an inclined position, my belly just does not want to be stretched or pulled on any more today. I fooled myself. I should have planned to be away for two weeks. There is no way I could leave again right now as I don't like thinking of the boys missing me (not to mention, I think they would be total screamers for anybody who tried to care for them!), and up until I came home, they were fine. Austin was able to understand when I was coming home, and he was good at visiting me over at the other house, however, when I came home for the visit, he wanted me here.  It's hard to feel pretty dang sore, a little scared that you are messing up a good surgery recovery, and know that it had been so easy two days before.

So, I'm home. It is what it is and it will get easier. My belly will heal, my patience will return, the boys will settle down and summer will be beautiful...I'm guessing in about two weeks.

Great Day Eight

Yesterday, day 8 post surgery, was the day I had to give myself a sponge bath. I finally could not stand the smell of myself. I also got to use the restroom (and not just pee) without it hurting which was really nice. I could chuckle and I coughed on some water and it didn't send me hugging my belly in pain.

I stood in front of a mirror and took the compression bandage off. I liked what I saw. I also turned sideways and bent over because this was what was one of the things I hated most; the hanging skin. My belly, it didn't hang. There would be absolutely no way to hide a matchbox car in there. I stood like that, bent over at the waist staring at the reflection and the horizontal belly, and I knew that this was the right decision.

It was also a day where I did nothing besides sit on the couch, paint my nails and maybe two loads of laundry. I am healing. Today is my last full day of being off duty and after my post-op appt., tomorrow I am back at home, though thankfully my mother in law will be keeping me company and helping out for a couple of days.

The other day, day 6, I attended a funeral. A girl I was friends with since 3rd grade had passed in her sleep unexpectedly. She has a son almost exactly the same age as our second, Oliver. During this past week I have been able to see Austin numerous times. My dad brought him for a visit, I've put him to bed, and on day 7 a friend brought her kiddo over and I got Austin and we had a small pizza party. I have not been able to see Oliver. This is the longest I have ever been away from him, and on day 6 I ached to hold him. To have him put his arms around my neck and say "I love you" in his little soft voice. Last night I went to see Chris after the kiddos were in bed and I snuck upstairs to peek in on Oliver. I couldn't resist, I rubbed his back until he woke up and picked him up from the crib and rocked and rocked and cried. How lucky I am to be able to rock my babies. How incredibly lucky. I was thisclose to spending the night at home and enjoying the sleepy Sunday morning being surrounded by my family. I was drugged on the smell of Ollie.

In the end, I came back to my parents. I am giving myself one more full day of rest (Austin will keep me company for a couple hours in the afternoon). And tomorrow, after this last drainage tube is out, I will get to play with my boys, heal my scar, and have a reflection that does not eat SUV's as a game. Yes, I am incredibly lucky.

PS. I also came back to my parents and realized it's my last care free night as I'll need rest tonight in order to take care of the kiddos tomorrow. I treated myself to two percocet (I've always limited myself to one), some munchies, and the Parks and Recreation show on Hulu...not a bad night of healing ;)

Support (besides the compression garment...)

This past week has been as easy as it gets when it comes to undergoing a major abdominal surgery. This has not been due to me, it is the team of support people I've had behind me. It's been incredible, and if you are reading this blog to figure out how to make it through a tummy tuck, my first advice is to gather support. 

I've had my husband. My beautiful, patient, caring husband. He took the day off of work to be there at the hospital the entire time I was under. He filled my prescriptions. He was gentle with me when my words were not (waking up from general anesthesia makes me grumpy...who knew?). He let me lie around the living room instead of preferring me to be upstairs, even though when I was in the living room I wanted everything QUIET. He went out to get meals so he wouldn't be banging around the kitchen, he waited until I was awake to even make coffee. He cleaned the house for hours so I wouldn't have to work on it the next week when I still won't be feeling well. He took care of our 22 month old while he puked and rocked him till 2:30am after working until 10pm and leaving for work bright and early the next day just so he could then run to my parents house and check on me. He has circled like this with zero complaining for a week. 

I've had my mom who has changed bed sheets to accomodate house guests they were having that overlapped with my stay. She grocery shopped to have my comfort foods (cereal/eggs/ice cream/coffee). She sat at the hospital the entire time during my surgery and drove me around to my post-op appt. even when she had tons to do to leave for Paris the next day. She took our little monsters for the weekend and went back to our house to help Chris with bedtime routines because she was going to miss them on her trip. 

I've had my dad who coordinated watching the kids on surgery day. He also watched the angels for the weekend and has played what equates to at least 10 hours of "farm" where they push tractors and bales of hay around the living room harvesting different plants. He plays endlessly with the kids and even promised to get them to eat healthy food so I not once had to worry about if the kids were happy without me.

I've had my mother in law who came to our house for almost an entire week. She has more patience in a week then I show in a day. She played, comforted, fed and rocked our little boys all without once calling for backup. I am sure she pet and loved our dogs three times the amount they usually receive. She was there for the sickness of Oliver and cleaned puke in the middle of the night so Chris could rock the boy just to wake early and help them adjust to being home without Mommy or Daddy. She then thanks me for letting her help.

I've had my sister in law, who works four jobs, take care of the boys, call to visit with me, spend the night so Chris can work more, and lend me books to get through the week of isolation. 

I have a sister who works full time and is undergoing house renovations 40 minutes away who comes to play with the kids, have dinner with me, and offer to take the boys overnight even when it would clearly not fit into her own schedule.

I have a friend named Gina. A friend who flew from Arizona to surprise me and keep me company on the couch for a day. She organized childcare for her own two kiddos so she could hop on an early flight, rent a car, show up at the house, cheer me up, and then wish that she could do "more" to help. 

I've had friends, neighbors and family who call/text/email me wishes, support, and good luck. They stop by to check out the battle scar, bring me meals, keep me company on the couch and try to not make me laugh. I haven't had a single judgement, but I have had a lot of cheers. 

This surgery isn't easy. It's emotional, time consuming and expensive. I would not be sitting here in my compression bandage with two leftover meals and a full homemade zitti waiting for me in the refrigerator if it wasn't for this small army of support. I cannot overstate how thankful I am for each and every one of them.

Laughter is not the best medicine

At the post-op...
Two tubes went in my chest up where my bra closes. They released the medicine into my belly. Two drainage tubes came out of my hips, they removed the one you can see in this picture. My belly is still quite swollen, so you can see the puckering and lines from the compression garment I have to wear.

Here I am standing up (well, mostly, I'm still hunched as I'm not sure my belly wants me to go all the way vertical quite yet). The one gauze covers my stitched up belly button and the other my incision. I still wear my compression bandage 24/7, though I removed it for this picture and then had a painful time of rolling around the floor trying to get it back on. It's a little itchy, but it's really uncomfortable to not wear it. 

Overall, I am really surprised at how good I am feeling, but that is a pleasant surprise to be sure. Yesterday (Day 3 post surgery) I had my post-op (moved it up by a day so my mom could drive me). We stayed in Boulder from 11:30 till 3:30 as my mom also had an appt. at 3 with her foot Dr. We went to her store, out for coffee, into Barnes and Noble and to two different doctor offices all with no pain meds! At home I mostly lie around (I've watched 30 episodes of SVU the past 4 days), but I have no difficulty getting up or walking around. Sleeping on my back/side is still uncomfortable, but I've been able to sleep like that the past two nights.

The post-op appt. was relatively painless. They took out the two tubes and it felt similar to when we used to sniff noodles and pull them back through our nose. He gave me a little numbing shot to take out the one drainage tube, but you could still feel it being pulled all the way out. That drainage tube went up to my breastbone and felt similar to how it would feel should a long snake be pulled through your body...strange.

The most painful thing by far has been if somebody makes me laugh. I hadn't seen my dad for days as he and my mom were taking care of the kids. When I came over to their house on Sun. night, I went straight to bed, but was watching an SVU (I'm an addict) and he came in to see how I was. He had been in there not three minutes before I was laughing, almost crying, and banning him from my room. The next night, same deal. Funny bastard. I just went to read a blog and I had to close the browser as it was making my belly clench in laughter and that is really the only thing that will send me reaching for the pills right now! No wonder I can only watch SVU...

Like a rag doll

I have stitches sewing my bottom half to my top half, but I can't see them.

It's been two days and I am wrapped in a compression binder that goes from my bottom to right below my boobs. I have two tubes going into my chest (pain meds) and two tubes coming out of my hips (drainage). I have a medical box that dangles from around my neck that holds the medicine that goes into my chest. I cannot stand up straight.

I sleep sitting up and surprisingly, it's my back that is hurting rather than  my belly. When I think about it, this makes sense as I have not been using my belly muscles at all, so my back is working overtime to hold me up, allow me to walk, allow me to move. I get up and do laps around the house as walking promotes healing. I feel really good when I'm walking. It's 40 degrees out, or I'd be out on a walking trail. I just might this afternoon...tubes and all.

25 percocet pills were sent home with me and I've used 3. I attribute this to the nice little box that is around my neck and I'm grateful I don't have to be on the pain meds as they make my head fuzzy and my skin itch. They make me grumpy. Chris assures me I'm not annoying him.

Yesterday I watched Pregnant in Heels, 6 SVU episodes, 3 The Office episodes and SALT.

I am scared to poop. I am scared to blow my whistly nose. I don't want to think about the boys as I can feel myself starting to miss the little monsters.

I am curious to see what's in the binder. I want to peek, but I won't. Not till Tuesday at my post-op appt. I'll share a picture :)

TWO DAYS!

Austin stopped napping a while ago, but some days I just need a little break. Today, a rainy dreary day, was one of them. I got him to lie down with me and when I took note of the time, 1:28PM, I got some butterflies thinking that in exactly two days, I'd be lying down on the cutting board. Truth is though, I'm really calm. I went through some ups and downs, and after the pre-op appt. last week where we handed over a big ol' check, I've put the questions out of my mind and feel really at ease about it all, and overall pretty excited. 

Here are pictures taken tonight. Weight: 121 lbs (oh yeah! I've lost about 7 lbs in the past couple weeks!)

Flexing: 

Au Natural:

The SKIN

Back to natural...

And a little flex

Up until this point my main concern has been if the "if I die..." question. But, it's just not going to happen. I shouldn't worry about it as it's silly even to put energy into. So, then my next main "worry" is that I will for some reason start to question this decision after I've already gone through with it. Which, I've realized, will be quite a waste of energy as there won't be anything to do at that point besides go ahead and enjoy my wrinkle-free mid-section, so again, it's silly. My most recent concern is that I'm not doing enough, and I might as well have my boobs inflated as then Chris and I would have something fun to play with as an added bonus after surgery, but again, silly to worry about as it's not going to happen. After I realized I'm spending time worrying about needless things, I've been able to just be happy and excited about the outcome. 

I could spend time worrying about the kids, how they are going to handle things, if they will eat well and be happy while I'm gone, but the truth is they will be surrounded by people who love them second to none, and that's pretty cool. Things will be different without me here, but the kids will be safe, they will be happy, and if they miss me a little, that's OK too. If they don't, then all the better for everybody!

So, two days to go, a week of lying around and taking it slow, and then I'll be good to go, right?! Well, that's how it's playing out in my head anyways, so wish me luck :)

Where's the easy button?

Went to the PT, her verdict is that I have no diastasis. Hmmmm. Now what?

She gets that I want the surgery to remove the skin, her best suggestion for that was an herbal wrap that is supposed to rid your body of excess skin and break up the fat molecules...I think I'll save my money. But she told me to tell the surgeon not to touch my abs.

In my mind though, if my muscles are in fact back together, and just stretched out, if I have the excess skin removed to fit the stretched out muscles and then flatten my belly naturally, won't I then be left with stretched out skin AGAIN?

I don't know. On one hand, I want to go in to surgery, have them chop away as much of me as they can and then deal with the recovery afterwards, and on the other hand I want to approach surgery in a healthy and least-invasive way.

I've got 2.5 weeks until surgery and I scheduled another visit with a different surgeon for a second opinion. Let's hope this doesn't leave me with my head spinning as it is now.

3 weeks to go...

Tomorrow I have an appt. with the physical therapist I worked with 1.5 years ago in the effort to reconnect my transverse muscles. She will most likely try to talk me out of the surgery by talks of physical therapy and exercise being the only true way to work on my core muscles. Surgery is not a "fix." I am meeting with her in the hopes that she'll write a letter to my insurance company recommending surgery in the hopes that they will help cover part of the $7000 it will cost to have these muscles sewn back together. When I first reached out to her for a letter she let me know she would like to assess my muscles before recommending surgery and that she thought there might be things we could do to get my muscles to start contracting again. This sent me reeling into a state of questioning myself, this surgery, and my entire situation.

I have started using an online calorie tracker to help me lose the last of the weight. It has me eating approx. 1060 calories/day (net), meaning it adds on calories when I exercise and taking away calories depending on what I eat. I have lost 4 lbs. in the past 2.5 weeks. I'm looking better. My belly does not poke out as far, and if I flex it, it is almost flat. Unless you take into consideration the deflated balloon appearance, then it still looks likes mountains and valleys that have gone through a hail storm.

My mind has turned into somewhat of a pendulum, swinging back and forth from wanting the surgery, to being pretty against it. Questions that hammer me: will I dis-respect myself afterwards for trying to attain social norms? Is that all that I'm doing? Do I think I will be worth more when my belly is flat? Will I die from infection? If I did die, will my boys blame themselves for my death and would Chris be firm enough to help them know that it was not because of them? Would I be happy with this belly, working on it for a lifetime, and knowing that whatever achievements I made would have been hard won?

Then, on the days I want the surgery, I tell myself I am completely over thinking this.

The main reason I would like to have this surgery is to feel sexy again. That's it. There are plenty of things that feed into that...I want to feel sexy while I have sex would be on the top of that list. I would like to work out and have it show, I remember that feeling good. I want to want to work out as the feeling after a good run was always something I loved. I do not love running when my belly flops all over my running shorts.

I think feeling sexy would contribute to our marriage in plenty of obvious ways, and hundreds of little subtle ways, and when I say it like that, it makes all the sense in the world to go lie under the knife ASAP.

The limit of the miracle

After talking to the Doc., I have a realistic view of what the surgery will and will not do. Here are the pros:

It will:

Sew my muscles back together to provide a flatter stomach

Take the wrinkles out of my baggy skin and make the skin tight again

Move the stretch marks to mostly below my belly button

Leave me with a scar from hip to hip and possibly a small vertical one below my belly button

Leave me with a scar around my belly button

It will not:

Remove any fat that is not directly attached to the skin that is removed

Firm my muscles (but it will give me the ability to firm them on my own, something that I cannot do at the moment)

To me, these sound great. I would love it if I could just be sculpted into the person I used to be, but that's not going to happen. That's OK. We will have invested quite a bit of money ($6986) into this new belly of mine and I think I will think about that before any future dessert, when I want to shrug off a workout, or when I start to feel like I'm just not looking how I want to. This surgery will give me the chance to be back in shape, and that's what I would like. I want this feeling of hopelessness to go away, like it's not even in my control. I could lose weight now, and I'm sure it would help with my midsection, but it wouldn't make the skin go away, the belly would not be flatter, and there would still be no firmness.

I'm also thinking that after the surgery, I will have nothing to complain about. I've thought about this for a long time, yet I didn't think it would be something we could afford for years to come, so I had kind of just put it on the back burner. After the surgery (and even now) I am thankful that we are fortunate enough to go through with this and not jeopardize our family budget.

I made the meeting for the consultation to find out how much something like this costs, if I was a good candidate, and if I could prepare myself any better for this kind of surgery. A couple days before my appt., my mom came to me and let me know that she was choosing to pass on some of my grandfather's inheritance to both my sister and I. I was completely taken by surprise as I had not even thought of receiving any of that. But, with my parents backing my desire for the surgery, they gave me the opportunity to meet with the Dr. as a real visit, not just as a hypothetical situation. I am so grateful. So incredibly grateful.

I hope that my gratitude carries over with me to after the surgery, on the days when I don't want to take care of myself as well as I should. I hope that I remember how I feel now, how I hope to never feel again, and how I will never have to.

lookyloo

Here is where I post the visual. The state of how I look, sans clothing. The flab monster, my saddle bag, my "big belly" as our three year old calls it. When you see the pictures of my "relaxed" state, keep in mind, that is not me pushing out my belly. That is what it is. I can no longer push past that point though as there is no muscle to push against. I hope that makes sense. The muscles that run around my body (the transverse muscles), the ones that act much like a corset, are torn from right below my breastbone to down below my belly button so there is essentially nothing in the front of me besides skin and fat. The tummy tuck will correct that.

The reasons I would like to have a tummy tuck go beyond what you can see (being able to sit up properly, minimizing back pain, being able to work out or run again without feeling like I'm not connected...), but a large part of me wants the tummy tuck to "fix" how I look. I do not feel comfortable looking pregnant all of the time. I liked looking pregnant when I was, I don't like it when I'm not. So, here goes...

Here I am 3 months before our first pregnancy. I am 5'2" and weighed approx. 115lbs

Here I am about a month before our last kiddo's pregnancy. I don't have a ton of shots of me in a two piece, though I was comfortable enough to wear one! I was probably around 119lbs.

Here I am today. I am still 5'2" (pregnancy does not make you grow taller) and approx. 128lbs.

Side view, flexing my belly. This is how I usually try to stand. This is when I get the looks of, "is she, or is she not pregnant?"

Annnnd.....here I am naturally. This is when people ask me if I know what I'm having.

Front shot! If I twist really fast you can watch it wave in the wind. Only kind of joking.

Front shot with the lower....skin pool? Where all of the skin forms a line and just lets the stuff above hang over.

Flexing

Natural

And now for my trick that the boys love :)

Now you see it....

Now you don't! The full SUV is in my belly button!

And now it is completely under the flap of flab that is my midsection

Ok then! That is slightly embarrassing, but really exciting to think that in a few months, I'll be able to post after shots, and I'm hoping that I might be able to compare a little more to the first photo rather than my pregnancy belly shots!

Consult

"Boy, the work we could do on you!" was probably the most validating thing I could have heard coming from a man in his 60's while fondling my very soft, very wrinkled, very saggy belly. In fact, so much so, that I think before I go for surgery I will line up as many consults as I can just to hear just how badly I need a tummy tuck.

I look pregnant. I do. The only people to admit that to me are 1) the people who have asked me when I'm due, or if I know what I'm having and 2) the surgeon.

I'm grateful that my husband has not said anything, though there have been many a time that I have tried to get him to tell me what he really thinks of this belly of mine. I do have a friend (or three) who have asked me how to avoid what has become of my mid section while they go through their own pregnancies. It is hard to explain how I feel about this. It's kind of like an elephant in the room. If my friends, or husband, would truthfully tell me it's ugly, then what can they do about it? They can cheer me on in my work out routines, they can tell me they think it might be getting better. Maybe. But really the conversation would go, "Wow, that's ugly." The end. That would not be a good conversation.

I had thought about getting a tummy tuck. I had dreamed about it. There was no way we could pay for the tummy tuck, especially after starting my company. I reached out to some friends who have all gone through pregnancy to see if they had done any research on the topic, it was kind of decided they hadn't, or if they had, it was just through the Internet and no real visits to a surgeon.

I was working out. I had joined this class, Bodypump. I talked to my instructor afterwards to find out alternative exercises during the abs routine as crunches are not ideal for those with a diastasis recti. She talked to me about the exercises and then said, "Girl, you have got to get that fixed. I did." BINGO. I had somebody to talk about, somebody who looked great, still exercised, and knew what I was talking about! She had a surgeon, one who would bill insurance, and more importantly, one who she would recommend.

Weeks passed. I kept working out. I kept thinking about what could happen if I would just make the call and one day I did it. They asked if I would need a reminder call for my appt. and I said, "I've been thinking about this appt. for years. I will not forget!"

And that is how I found myself standing in a pink silk bathrobe (Chris thought it was pretty) with scaly winter skin and a floppy belly grinning from ear to ear as I listened about how he could cut me hip to hip, give me a new navel, cut off a ton of my skin, and send me home with drainage tubes.